Circe

by Madeline Miller

That is one thing gods and mortals share. When we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world.

“Let me tell you a truth about Helios and all the rest. They do not care if you are good. They barely care if you are wicked. The only thing that makes them listen is power.

Did he know how much those words cost me? I do not think he could. It is youth’s gift not to feel its debts.

Beneath my feet were the bones of a thousand years. I thought: I cannot bear this world a moment longer. Then, child, make another.

He would take him into his confidence and teach him all those arts of mortal men, swordplay, archery, hunting, speaking in council.

What every boy needs

“You do not grieve for your father?” “I do. I grieve that I never met the father everyone told me I had.”

“You have always been the worst of my children,” he said. “Be sure you do not dishonor me.” “I have a better idea. I will do as I please, and when you count your children, leave me out.”